Sex on Legs
by WordsObsessed
Summary: At twenty-two she knew that she really should be fantasising about rather more high brow aspirations than enticing her womanising housemate into bed – but all the same, the way his eyes would flick up and down her body, as though he wanted nothing more than to rip off her conservative skirt-and-blouse combo and hurl it straight into the blazing fireplace, shredded her nerves daily.
1. Chapter 1

He really was sex on legs.

Still, after three years of living with him, Hermione's knees still threatened to give out whenever she walked in on him bent over the stove, saw him run a hand absently through his wild hair, or caught him walking out of the shower in just a loosely fastened towel. At twenty-two she knew that she really should be fantasising about rather more high brow aspirations than enticing her womanising housemate into bed – but all the same… _fuck, _the way his eyes would flick up and down her body, as though he wanted nothing more than to rip off her conservative skirt-and-blouse combo and hurl it straight into the blazing fireplace, shredded her nerves and sent her heart into overdrive daily.

But it was _so _fucking sexy.

* * *

><p>He knew he'd curse himself eventually for inviting her to live with him. For one thing, Molly had disapproved and that was a fairly reliable signal of something that was, or would come to be, unacceptable. Not that the arrangement they had was unacceptable – on the contrary, it worked very well. Conveniently close to the Ministry for her work as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and his in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Grimmauld Place functioned as the ideal base for both of them; and of course, its sheer size and security lent itself perfectly to soirées.<p>

Ironically though, it was these increasing number of parties that came to undo Sirius' morals. As committed as Hermione was to her work, from the Yule Ball in her Fourth Year she had shown her one reliable weakness to be a good party – it mattered very little the occasion; she would dependably appear at the vast majority of formal social gatherings and demonstrate _very _clearly that her woollen tights and bootleg jeans were far in the past. These days, _Merlin _did she know how to dress when she wanted to. Yes, her work clothes were smart, simple and nondescript – but they still hugged her curves and screamed confidence, capability, and pure dominance.

However, it was her "party dresses" as she called them, which reduced him to a sexually frustrated, dirty mouthed, animalistic mess. They were of deep red, and soft nude; plunging navy and flirty green; silky gold and rustling silver… but his very, very favourite was the sheer black. He still remembered the first time she wore that last number. It was for the celebration he threw her for her becoming the youngest Head of Department the Ministry had ever seen; everyone had arrived but she was late emerging from her room – the reason why, he'd now forgotten. But what he would never forget was seeing her walk down the candlelit stairs towards him.

Her smile was ecstatic, shy, and tearful all at once; her dimples were prominent beneath flushed cheeks and her eyes – her eyes, her beautiful eyes – were sparkling with sheer joy. She held her head high and brown tendrils of soft hair loosened from her chignon led his gaze down her elegant neck to her body. The neckline of the dress slashed straight from shoulder to shoulder, but it did little to conceal her skin, as the fabric was sheer chiffon – which of course meant that she was effectively naked right down to the line of her breasts, where black silk hugged her torso, hips and the tops of her slim thighs. But then the chiffon took over again to skim over her legs in a long, flowing skirt that _oozed _feminine sensuality. The outfit he thought was complete with the "fuck me" heels that were tied around her feet and ankles – but then she turned and he saw that that sheer black fabric coated the entire expanse of her back so that he could see hints of the delicate birdcage of her back: her shoulder blades, the line of her spine, and as she instinctively reached up to push her hair back, the tiniest suggestion of her ribs.

In that moment she looked so elegant, so tantalising, so adult and yet so slight, that it was all he could do not to sweep her up in his arms, push his way through the crowd, and pin her against the wall of the hallway and claim her red lips as his own. But then the moment passed as their guests burst into applause and shouts of congratulation, and he was forced to do nothing more dramatic than to offer her is hand at the foot of the staircase and elaborately bow to wide laughter and applause.

But _fuck _she was sex on legs.

**A/N: to be continued…**


	2. Chapter 2

"Sirius Black, I swear to Merlin if you're not down here in ten seconds-"

"Calm _down _old woman, I'm coming-"

"Do not call me _old woman-_"

"Well stop nagging like one!"

"I'm not!"

Anyone listening to this exchange, shouted over three floors of Grimmauld Place, would have presumed its participants had been long married – and perhaps would have been more than a little surprised to see, a second later, a young woman with an astonishingly impatient expression on her pretty face stalk out of the kitchen while wrestling to fasten an earring, rather than an irritated mother of ten.

"_Hurry up!_"

Hermione stood in the hallway tapping her foot and exuding pure irritation, arms crossed tightly across her chest as she scowled at a portrait of cowering wizards.

"What are _you_ looking at? _Sirius Black, _get _down here _or I will-"

The sound of quickly descending footsteps silenced her, her painted mouth temporarily pursing shut as the object of her annoyance came bounding into view, until his evident cheerfulness prompted her into speech again.

"You can wipe that smile off your face right now – Molly will be furious, we're beyond late!"

He stepped towards her, grinning, knowing that his closeness would unnerve her. Although smartly dressed in a dapper set of black dress robes, his dark hair was as mussed as ever – ruffled as though he had just stepped off a broom… or out of a bed he hadn't been sleeping in… He watched her face carefully and smirked as her expression changed from murderous to flushed.

"Calm down kitten," he murmured into her ear, now so close to her that he could feel the heat of her body press against his as he trapped her against the wall, and pressed a hand to her waist. "Nobody will mind – Molly's invited half the country, I doubt they'll even notice if we're not there."

Her mouth was growing dry and her body heated as she felt his lips move just above the exposed skin of her neck. He was overpowering her mentally and physically; his soft, intimately spoken words were rendering her unable to think, while the pressure of his hand and the immediate proximity of his tall, muscled form were culminating in severe light headedness.

"Really?" she managed to squeak. "It's Ginny's engagement party - I'm sure they'd notice if the Maid of Honour and Best Man missed the party."

There was a pause where his fingers applied slightly more pressure to her waist and he let out a warm breath on her neck, which sent rolling shivers down her spine.

"Who said anything about us missing the party?"

She froze, her face a potent mix of lust and panic.

"No – I didn't mean we – I meant, _late_ to the party-"

He laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle that reverberated through his chest and hummed through her ears before pulling back and winking at her.

"Come on kitten, let's go."

-/-/-/-

"Fuck, _there _you two are! Where the fuck have you _been?!_"

Hermione and Sirius stood wordlessly in the hallway of The Burrow, which was packed with raucously laughing guests, as the fury of Ginny Weasley descended upon them. She'd inherited her mother's crippling ability to render any subordinates immobile and speechless, but had made it even more potent by throwing a _fuck _into at least every other sentence.

"I was about to send a fucking _search party _out for you! What happened?!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped forwards to link her arm through Ginny's and turn away to enter the party, having recovered from her best friend's immediate onslaught of abuse.

"Sirius was faffing-"

As expected, he indignantly interrupted from behind her.

"In my defence, my robes weren't where you said they were-"

"Yes they were-"

"Weren't-"

"You weren't _looking _properly-"

"You said they were in the airing cupboard-"

"They were!"

"Hung up!"

"Who _folds _dress robes?!"

Ginny's head swivelled between them, her expression changing from amused to disgusted.

"When are you two going to just fuck it out?"

"Ginny!"

"What?!"

There was a pause as both Sirius and Hermione opened their mouths with reprimanding expressions – but nothing came out. After what had happened in the hallway just minutes earlier, neither could find anything to say that would come across as either convincing or truthful.

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Well I know who I'm betting on throwing the next engagement party…"

-/-/-/-

Molly's party was, as ever, a huge success. Ginny sparkled with joy, and Harry was as proud as punch all night. Conversation about dresses and babies ran rampant among the women, while the men – headed by Fred and George – focused on the more important task of the Bachelor Party. Sirius joined in raucously, but it didn't go unnoticed how often his eyes flicked to Hermione; not that his were the only pair which did so. Charlie spent most of the night staring over Bill's head at the young witch, while Oliver Wood, a new teammate of Ginny's, was even less subtle in his gawping of the girl who had transformed spectacularly from her early Hogwarts days.

Hermione's anger had quickly dissipated with female company and a large glass of Elf Wine, so that by the end of the evening it was her laughter that was merrily twinkling above all other tones. She was like water, Sirius drunkenly reflected. She was utterly bewitching, always moving, her hair rippling every time she moved her head – especially, he thought, in that periwinkle silk dress. It wrapped around her lithe torso to her waist, and then rippled into a knee length skirt to leave her pale arms and toned calves bare and enticing.

Having already experienced sexy-as-fuck angry Hermione that evening, and now watching her being utterly, and unconsciously, captivating, Sirius was feeling both awash with lust and thoroughly miserable at the concept of going to bed tonight with nothing more comforting than a glass of firewhiskey and his own hand. She was entirely single, and sexy as hell – if he'd met her in one of the Muggle bars he'd used to frequent in the days of the Mauraders he'd have had no problem whatsoever into seducing her into bed. Why did she have to be his Godson's best friend? Why did he have to have known her since she was fourteen? And why did she have to be living with him!?

It was a source of constant torment, and quickly becoming more than he could deal with.

-/-/-/-

"Don't look, but he's looking at you."

"Who?"

"Sirius, of course."

Hermione felt her face begin to heat.

"For goodness sake, someone will hear you!"

Ginny rolled her eyes, and continued their murmured conversation in the corner of the living room.

"Everyone can see it, except for you two – or maybe you can, but you're not letting on…"

She cocked her head expectantly, and watched as Hermione grew increasingly flustered.

"He's sexy as fuck, Gin, I'm not denying that – and yes, we have moments – but I really don't think-"

"Moments? Explain!"

The older woman grit her teeth and cursed her high alcohol consumption this evening – she adored her best friend, but in certain situations it was easier sometimes to deny everything until something solid could be presented for analysis.

"I don't know, just like – the way he looks at me, or how he'll touch my hand or my shoulder, and it's like… like sparks, really, I don't know how else to describe it…" She took a fortifying gulp of wine before continuing. "I mean, this evening we were late because he _was _faffing, but then in the hallway… I was cross because we were going to be late but then he just kind of walked right up to me, so he was right here" – she gestured with her hands – "and then whispered in my ear – and he was _so _close Gin, and it was so _intimate, _and it was… well, it was just _so hot…_"

Ginny was agog.

"What did he whisper? That he wanted to rip that dress right off you, fuck you on right there on the floor, and-"

"Who's ripping Granger's dress off?"

"I will, if Ginny gets Mum out of the way."

Hermione whirled around to confront the grinning twins, both sets of eyes glittering with amusement, and opened her mouth to give a witty retort when Sirius appeared at her side.

"Boys, you should know that entering verbal warfare with Hermione is by no means a secure triumph. She gives as good as she gets – she's certainly the best I've ever had."

His words dripped with suggestion and innuendo, but before the twins could get past a bark of laughter, or Ginny her sharp intake of breath, he'd turned to Hermione and suggested they leave before the party took a turn for the more raucous – after all, they both had early starts.

"Not like you to be so well behaved, Sirius," remarked George, looking slightly wounded. "We were counting on you to get the party started."

The shaggy haired wizard laughed. "Sorry boys, but I lead a more domestic life these days. But" – his hidden hand stroked Hermione's back, his thumb rubbing over the bumps of her spine – "it was a great, great night. Ginny, congratulations again."

He leant down to kiss her cheek, and while his head was bent, whispered something in her ear – in response, her eyes widened and she looked to him seemingly for confirmation of what she'd heard. But he only smiled slightly as if to say _you know what you heard, _then walked across the room to say goodbye to Harry. Instantly, knowing she had only seconds before he'd be back to take Hermione home, Ginny fiercely embraced her friend and stood on tiptoe to hiss what Sirius had said to her into her ear.

_"If she wanted me to, I'd rip every scrap of fabric off her, and fuck her on every floor in the house. Don't let her think I wouldn't."_

**A/N: to be continued…**


	3. Chapter 3

_Crack!_

__The couple apparated into the dingy hallway of Grimmauld Place, and made no move to step away from each other – the only movement was Hermione turning her head away from Sirius in an effort to hide her expression. Thinking she was about to walk away from him, he caught her hand.

"Hermione."

She shut her eyes, breathing fast and shallowly, and stayed perfectly still.

"Yes?"

"I know Ginny told you what I said."

A small sound escaped her lips as she felt his hand encircle her wrist and begin to slide up her arm – he was coming closer, closer – then both his hands slid around her waist from behind to pull her close to his strong chest, and he bent down to whisper in her ear. As it had only hours earlier in the same place, his hot breath brushed over her neck and her skin burst into shivers of excitement.

"I meant what I said, Hermione," he murmured. "If you wanted me to, that dress could be in pieces on the floor in seconds – if you wanted me to, I'd fuck you wherever and however you wanted me to. You've seen me watching you… this isn't a game, not to me. I've wanted you for years – just give me the word, love, give me the word and I'll be yours… yours, body and soul."

Her breathing had turned to gasping as rolls of heat washed over her trembling, hopelessly aroused body; his arms were all that were holding her up – fuck, she thought she'd been subtle – but he'd never have gone this far if he thought he'd be rebuked. He knew she wanted him.

"Hermione?"

Slowly, she managed to turn in his arms so their faces were an inch away, eyes locked and the air around them crackling with tension.

"Fuck Black, you'd better make this good. I've been dreaming of this for years. Don't you dare disappoint me."

A strangled growl erupted from his throat and without warning he slammed her back against the wall. She gasped as the breath was knocked from her lungs, then groaned as his lips dragged down her neck – her head fell to the side as he clutched her to him, and bit down on her exposed shoulder.

"Sirius…"

His hands, roaming her back, found the fastening of her dress and wrenched it apart – buttons flew around the hallway but Hermione couldn't care less and pushed frantically at the fabric pooling around her hips. Again, Sirius clutched the pale silk and yanked it apart so that with a _sssssss _the expensive dress ripped down the skirt and fell to the floor leaving its wearer clad in nothing but her flimsy underwear and her favourite pair of "fuck-me" heels, as he had dubbed them.

He paused for a second to take in the view before him – Hermione, barely able to stand, trembling against the wall with anticipation. Her pale, exposed skin glowed and, as he stared, she reached up and pulled her hair out of its fastening. The curls tumbled over her shoulders to frame her face and led his eyes directly down to her breasts.

He couldn't wait another heartbeat.

Hermione moaned as Sirius' hands slid under her arms and gripped her shoulders – his teeth tore her sheer bra as he fought to get to her tight, erect nipples. When he succeeded, and sucked one eagerly into her mouth she mewled with pleasure, and reached with to caress, roll, squeeze and pinch the other with her own hand. Sirius' clouded eyes saw this and he growled with arousal. He pressed her even closer from behind so that his skilled mouth, always dirty but now demonstrating an even more explicit talent, was taking nearly her whole, small, perky breast into his mouth. His teeth grazed across the sensitive skin and she nearly sobbed. He grinned internally and flicked his tongue over the straining nipple – her head rolled backwards and her hands clutched his hair.

"Please, please, more, more…"

He switched sides, lavishing the other breast with attention but this time holding both her hands behind her back – she struggled, but to press herself closer into his mouth rather than to get free. She could feel her sheer knickers growing sodden with arousal the longer he worked his tongue over her chest, and her head growing light.

"Please Sirius, please…"

"What love?"

"More, I need more…"

He lapped her nipple one last time.

"So demanding!"

She was absolutely out of control for the first time in a long while, but couldn't care less as Sirius swept her up into his arms only to lay her on the floor. His kisses travelled down her sternum, between her ribcage, to her navel and over her soft stomach. She inadvertently jerked upwards whenever his lips hit a particularly sensitive spot but was pressed back to the floor by the strong hands on her hips. When Sirius reached the top seam of her knickers, he took them in her teeth and began to draw them down her legs – to aid him, her desperate hands pushed them down as she raised her hips to allow him to remove them and leave her utterly exposed.

She lay there panting, propped up on her elbows as she watched his shaggy head lower to between her legs – but then fell back onto the hard floor with a cry as his tongue swept directly over her clit. She lay there gasping for breath between moans as he lapped at her wet folds, her shaking body alternating between hot and cold as Sirius pulled her slowly further and further into ecstasy.

Hermione felt her orgasm approaching slowly and cried out to warn him.

"Sirius! Sirius… you're… I'm…"

In an instant his mouth was gone and instead pressed to hers, kissing her like it was his last day on earth while his fingers replaced his tongue, his thumb flicking her clit while his fingers pumped and curled within her. Her back arched as the frenzied pleasure within her climaxed and she screamed – screamed as bliss rolled over her and stars popped in front of her eyes.

She was flying – and never wanted to land.

**A/N: to be continued…**


End file.
